Labels and Shadows
by Cathook
Summary: River's possible experiences during the episode The Train Job. Second in my series of retelling Firefly.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **River's possible experiences during the episode _The Train Job_. Second in my series of retellings of Firefly.

**Spoilers:** _The Train Job_, of course. :)

Please leave a **review**. Enjoy!

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**Labels and Shadows**

River lies on the table in the centre of the infirmary room. She's asleep, has been most of the time since they arrived aboard Serenity, perpetually suspended in a drug induced slumber. _Has it been days? Less or more?_ Time is hard to pin down, slipping through her fingers like sand. Slipping, slipping, everything is slipping around and away, and sifting to sand drifting on the wind. Her mind and her thoughts and the very fabric of reality, all turning to dust when she grabs for them.

Simon is worried, she knows this. Afraid for her, of her, what she has become. She glimpses it in the moments she is awake. Feels his emotions raging like a stormy sea when he looks at her. There's anger there, and sorrow, but most of all worry – maddening powerless worry.

That's why he insists on giving her the drugs, to calm her mind when it races away from her. It does that a lot, her mind, runs at a hundred miles an hour in a million different directions. He doesn't understand; it makes him worried. Makes him want to help the only way he knows how. River isn't worried; she just wishes she could make sense of the things that are going through her mind. She knows the doctors at the Academy did something to her, even if she doesn't understand it. She remembers the pain, remembers it well. She shudders in her sleep at the thought of it.

Their experiments changed her; she vaguely remembers being different before. Doesn't know how, but knows that the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that assault her mind now weren't there before. These things came after – after the needles, the drugs and the pain. Suddenly the memories envelop her wholly. They're always there lurking in the dark recesses of her mind, but when she sleeps they come alive: pouncing on the opportunity to haunt her dreams.

_There's a chair; a medical chair raised from the floor, with cords everywhere. Once it was strange and frightening – now it is familiar in its horrendousness. The needles are everywhere, sending searing pain through every inch of her nervous system. She screams, there's really nothing else to do. The doctors are there, all around her, faceless behind white masks. Her screams mean nothing to them. In the beginning she tried to reason, but however eloquently she pleaded they just ignored her. Now it is harder to speak, her mind is a muddled mess from the slow chipping away of the repeated experiments, so she just screams. _

The scream carries her all the way to consciousness. Sends her tumbling off the infirmary table with flailing arms. Desperately sobbing she crawls into a corner, shying away from the ghosts of doctors still visible to her mind's eye. Then _he_'s there, her rock, asking stupid questions as always.

"Do you know who I am?"

With effort she sifts through the shadows gathered in her mind. As she lifts her head and peeks out from between her arms she's relieved to find the face of her brother unobscured by the phantoms of the Academy.

"Simon." _Of course I know who you are. My brother, the only one I can trust. My safe spot in the universe. _She wants to say it all; somehow even more frustrated that she can think it but not translate it with her voice. He seems happy with her acknowledgment though, thinks it's a feat that she recognizes him. _Not where the problem lies._

"Were you dreaming?" he asks.

_Dreaming…yes._ She is still struggling to banish the reverberations of the memory-dream. The infirmary is too much like the Academy, all white and sterile. The phantoms are too comfortable here to flee in the face of wakefulness. Unsteadily she drags herself to her feet, tries to discern the reality of the room.

"Did you dream of the Academy?" Simon inquires further. He knows where her thoughts are, but he doesn't understand the issue at hand.

"It's not relevant," she answers him, trying to get her bearings of the world around her. _There's reality somewhere beneath the dreams, and memories and…other things._ Her stumbling steps put her under a surgical light, the sharp white making her crane away in shock. So much like the lights in the Academy, blazing down on her. _Illuminate the test subject. Make it easier for the doctors to observe._ She forces the memory away, strains her mind to focus on here and now, but something's wrong about that too. _Isn't what it ought to be – where it ought to be._

Simon's thoughts are still on her dream, on the very same memories she's trying to ward off. Her dismissing answer isn't enough for him; he still wants to help, thinks he can help.

"If you can talk about what happened there," he says, "and I know it's hard but, the more I know, the faster you'll get better."

_Not true. Path to solution only holds if initial assessment of the problem is adequate. _Simon's assessment is she's traumatized, thinks it's all in her mind. She knows better. Academy did something to her – changed her – and it can't be undone.

"This isn't home," she says quietly, the realization of what's wrong suddenly dawning on her.

"No. No, we can't go home. If we go home, they'll just send you back to the Academy. This is safer now."

Simon speaks gently, his voice barely disguising the concern his mind can't hide. River shakes her head. Tries not to cry. _Not home, not home, not home…_ Knows he's right, trusts his assessment on this. But all she's wanted and waited for was for him to bring her home. _Safe, though?_ Simon says they're safer here. _Safer, yes, but not safe. _He doesn't know what they're dealing with. River knows. Deep down somewhere she knows who'll be coming for her.

"We're on a ship." He tries with cheerful this time.

River already knows, but she is grateful. Grateful at his attempt to distract her solemn thoughts. She suspects he wants a response._ The correct way to conduct conversation. _She looks around, seeing through the walls, registering every detail of the vessel.

"Midbulk transport, standard radion-accelerator core, classcode 03-K64, Firefly." She rattles off the designation of the ship without hesitation. She always did excel in aviation theory.

"Well, that's somethin'." The voice is new in the conversation, somewhat more familiar in River's mind. It's impressed as well. For a moment they regard each other, River and the contradiction, like cats sizing each other up. His mind is difficult, complicated, hard to read and make sense of. He sweeps by her brother without paying any mind to the doctor's apprehensive stance.

"I can't even remember all that," he comments off-handedly, while proceeding to the sink to wash his bruised knuckles.

"Need a weave on that?" Simon asks.

"It's nothin'."

"I expect there's someone's face feels differently."

"Well, they tell ya 'never hit a man with a closed fist', but it is on occasion hilarious."

"I suppose so."

River hears their conversation at the edge of her mind, her attention veering back to them at the hushed whisper of Simons fear.

"So the, ah, the fight didn't…" He shifts his eyes to River and she can feel his anxiety echoing into her own blood. "...draw any, umm, any attention."

The contradiction, Mal – _not a correct designation _– lifts his eyes from the towel drying his hands.

"No Feds," he assures with a quick smile. "Just an honest brawl between folks. Ain't none of us wanted the Alliance on us, Doctor, that's why you're here."

"I thought I was here because you needed a medic." If she'd been able to focus on Simon's comment it might have amused River. _He can be such a brat at times._

"Well, not today," Mal states cheerfully and whisks out the door. River stares after him, the thoughts of his mind jumbling with her own. _Almost as hard to pin down as time._

"Mal. Bad. In the Latin."

She tries to explain the contradiction's inadequate label to her brother, but he doesn't understand. Thinks she means the captain is bad, but she doesn't. _That's Simon's opinion, not mine, not River's. _She has seen the core of Mal, the captain, the contradiction, and he is nothing as simple as bad.

Simon motions for her to come, and she knows what he wants. Has his tools laid out. Silver tray of instruments, just like the doctors in the Academy. River can feel the memory of them digging around in her brain. Feels the pain and knows that's how they changed her, how they made her what she is now – whatever she is. A doctor's tools have made her wrong, but a doctor's tools can't fix it. But they're all the tools Simon has; his needles and his drugs.

River's sick of the drugs; they can merely dull the edge of her racing mind. Can't cure, can't fix what's wrong. Simon doesn't understand. _Why can't he understand?_ Why can't she explain? The words slip away unspoken. Sifting through her fingers, her mind, like water trickling away, sand drifting on the wind, impossible to grasp.

Her frustration erupts like a volcano. She grabs the tray of medical instruments and flips it violently into the air. Scalpels and clamps fly and land in a satisfying clinkety-clankety mess. And Simon is there. Clutches her shoulders and gently steers her away. Taking care of her, always _trying_ to take care of her. He's floundering for a way to calm her down, but her hundred miles an hour mind has already strayed from the frustration.

It sails away through the ship as she lets her body be seated so Simon can clean up her mess. She follows Mal as he searches for Kaylee, _hunts for the sunbeam_. The thought makes her giggle. _Tries to catch the sunlight to pin it down. _River knows where she is. _But she's not telling._ She giggles again, makes her brother look at her and smile. Relief washes over his face because for a moment she looks almost like the little sister he once knew.

As she drifts before Mal into the flower's shuttle, just like him without knocking, she catches the edges of the women's conversation. Can't hear the words, too much noise in her head, but she knows what they're talking about. She knows because there is no escaping the force of light erupting from the sunbeam at the mere mention of her brother's name.

Mal bumbles in, interrupting the girly time. Making jokes that make almost as little sense as the buzzing humbug noise in River's head. _What are space monkeys? Is there a genetic resemblance to planet-bound primates or simply a phonological concurrence? _The questions are overcome by the calm raging of emotions in the shuttle. The flower's poise never fails, nor the captain's smirk, but River sees through them both. Sees the truth of Mal's concern before he voices it and the gratefulness in Inara even as she laughs the gesture away. _Lies on top, truths beneath. Dancing, dancing around each other but never daring to touch._ The dance is unfamiliar to River, the duplicity confusing. With an effort she recalls her mind, retreats to the familiarity of the infirmary and the soothing safety of her brother, as they sail through the black toward something that puts the sharp tinge of fear even into Mal.

Its shadow encroaches on River's mind like a cloud blacking out the sun, followed by a chill wind that rocks the relatively steady ground she has next to Simon. There's an evil out there beyond the hull of Serenity, a bitter dried up mind without the gentle glimmer of empathy. River shies away from it, tries to hide from its familiar cold calculation. The mind out there is a lot like the minds of the doctors at the Academy, too much for her to know how to deal with it. It likes to watch the pain, just like they did. To inflict it even more so._ Poke the monkey, watch her dance. Maybe I am the space monkey. Unpredictable, dangerous, makes a mess. _

She crawls up in a ball to protect herself, close her eyes and ears to block out the evil. She loses grasp of time as she waits for the boat to sail away from it again. When it finally sifts away into the soothing emptiness of the black she draws a sigh of relief. Opens her eyes to meet the worry in Simon's gaze. He is relieved too when she smiles, and she even more so that she managed the simple communication. He says it's time to sleep, time for medicine.

"No," River objects. "Can sleep like a normal girl."

Simon regards her, his heart swayed by the frustrated tears welling up in her eyes that just a moment ago were filled with joy.

"Okay," he consents and gently leads her to her room. Tucks her in with a kiss on the forehead and sits by her side until she falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

River wakes to a flurry of activity. The boat is buzzing, as if Serenity herself is humming with nervous anticipation. It isn't unpleasant, she decides. She flicks her covers away and gets up on her feet. Slides the door open to peek outside. _No one there._ She steps over the threshold, her bare feet landing softly on the floor, making no sound. She can feel everything through her soles; the mechanic hum of Serenity's engine, the distant minds and emotions of the people onboard, a dusty wind rushing by outside the hull. _Not the black anymore. _Her mind reaches further, senses the hundreds of minds below. _Sitting, standing, waiting. Crammed together in stationary movement. Silver snake dashing across a dusty world. _

River draws within the shell of Serenity again, inside her own body. _River's shell._ She moves through the ship like a shadow, a wisp of air unseen, unheard. The center of anticipation draws her towards the cargo bay. She takes the upper way, behind the infirmary – _don't look inside _– and up to the door of the kitchen. Halts and slips back at the sight and sense of the two inside. The flower is gracefully preparing her nectar while the quiz tangles in his words when intent and meaning clash to confusion. She ponders their conversation as she steps onto the suspended walkways in the cargo bay. _Help without helping? _The idea of prayer puzzles her. _Prayer – a devout petition to an object of worship. Cries to an invisible force, appeals to an unsubstantiated idea of divinity. What's the point of it?_

The metal grates underfoot cut into her sensitive feet. It hurts, but she hardly feels it. Likes it even. It reminds her of the boundaries of herself, her shell, her body. Brings her back from the confusing riddles, twists and turns of her mind. She finds a shaded spot, hidden up high, to observe from and gazes down into the big room. _The belly of the_ _beast. No, not beast – bird, and boat. Can Serenity be both bird and boat? Bird flies, boat floats, sails…row, row, row your boat…But Serenity is a firefly. A bug! A flying, floating, buzzing bug of peace._ She giggles to herself. As complicated as it is, labeling can be a fun game.

Down from the hold come the voice of the gunman-ape – _Jayne_. Simon has told her she has to use people's names, but she finds them confusing. _Non-adequate labels. Incongruent as descriptions. Lacking in meaning and content to describe a person sufficiently._

Jayne is huffing displeasure at Simon. Tells him to go look after his moon-brained sister. The reference passes River by as she considers the ruff-looking man. He's hostile, a constantly grumbling predator, but she can see the beating heart inside. She's unsure what to make of him – friend or foe? Dangerous or not? Sunbeam knows what to think. She likes both the ape-man and the doctor. Tries to smooth the spiky surfaces they turn against each other, wants so bad for Jayne to accept the man that makes her heart go tippety-tap ever since she laid eyes on him at the Eavesdown Docks on Persephone.

Jayne's comment drives Simon out of the cargo room, no doubt to do as he said and look after his sister. River can sense his worry and hurt, but she remains on her perched outlook. It doesn't cross her mind that she shouldn't be there, that her brother will be worried when he finds her bed empty. The preparations are coming to fruition and she is intrigued by the crime about to be committed. _Crime – an unlawful act. Crime, criminal, felon, crook …are the crew of Serenity criminals?_ The thought upsets her, even though she can't quite figure out why.

She looks down on the sunbeam and knows she is part of it. Part of the crew, part of why River doesn't want to think of them as criminals. The ape-man fits the description better. His eyes have ill will in them, but what to do with that beating heart inside? There's potential for goodness there, warm thoughts of his mother and a sense of protection towards the young mechanic in front of him, muddled and hidden by greed and a penchant for firearms and violence. Greed is what overtakes him now.

"We could all be rich if we handed her back," he says, causing sunbeam to pause.

"You're not even thinking that."

_Yes, he is,_ River thinks even though Jayne refutes the accusation.

"Mal is," he claims.

_Excuses._ River listens despite not believing him, commits the ape-man's words to memory. _There's tactical advantage in knowing your enemy._ The instruction wafts through her head on a moment of clarity, focusing her mind as she listens.

"He ain't stupid. Why would he bring on trouble like those two if there weren't no profit in it? Captain's got a move he ain't made yet, you'll see."

Kaylee fastens the winch and rope to Jayne's harness and the big hatch in the floor cracks open to admit the dust and winds from outside. From her high position River sees straight out, glimpsing the rocky ground beside the glittering silver of the train cars.

"Time for some thrilling heroics," Jayne says with a grin.

The adrenaline pumping in the Jayne's veins carries River with him when he lowers himself out of Serenity. She worries in tune with the twinge in Kaylee as she waits above with a hard grip on the controls for the winch. She stretches further out and down again to find the contradiction and the amazon, the steely concentration of a job etching their minds in crystalline clarity. All is going according to plan – and then there is an explosion of pain.

The bullet ripping through Jayne's leg sends a reverberating wave of emotion through River's scull. She gasps for air and has to hang on hard to the railing to not let the chock sweep her of the catwalk. Her sight and mind blurs when anger and fight erupts on the train. She can't hold on to the captain, has no real control of the ability she possesses, looses him and Zoe in the commotion they cause.

Distance to the turmoil helps her draw back and she realizes the leaf has pulled them away from the train. The adrenaline is everywhere now, thrashing into the very fabric of the boat and pumping through Serenity's veins. She feels what her crew feels, and River feels what Serenity feels.

Simon runs to Jayne's aid, forgetting their differences in the face of a medical emergency. He doesn't like the man, but that doesn't mean he will let him bleed to death. He took an oath, an oath that becomes his mantra in times like these. The mumble of the words in his mind draws River to him, soothing her as well as him.

_I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity; I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity; the health of my patient will be my first consideration; I will not permit considerations of my patient's identity to intervene between my duty and my patient; I will maintain the utmost respect for human life; I make these promises solemnly, freely and upon my honor. I solemnly pledge…_

River pads on silent feet into the infirmary and crawls up on the second bed. Simon's eyes never divert from the ape-man on the main table. Sunbeam is also there, and the riddle stands by the door. After they land the leaf – _Wash_ – floats in too. His argument with Jayne actually draws Simon's attention for a moment, but only a moment. He has to get the dressing on Jayne's wound finished before the impatient ape-man rushes off.

"Why you got us parked here?" Jayne asks the leaf. "This ain't the go tsao de rendezvous spot."

"It is now," Wash states resolutely, not backing down in the face of the furious ape-man.

"Niska's people are waitin', they ain't partial to waitin'." River senses a hint of fear in Jayne. Self-preservation is what drives him now, overshadowing the greed. Wash has other priorities.

"Let 'em read a magazine. We don't make the sale until Mal and Zoe are back on the boat."

"These are stone killers, little man. They ain't cuddly like me."

"I'm not flying anywhere without my wife."

The standoff is making Kaylee nervous, she tries to smooth over with the words she's been telling herself.

"She'll be okay. She's with the Captain."

Jayne takes it wrong, thinks she's supporting him.

"There, you see? Everybody wins."

He decides he has been mediced enough and moves to stand up, pulls his leg away from Simon's caring hands. He puts the wounded leg down and screams in pain. Only the riddle makes no motion to aid him – the riddle and River. With a gruff the ape-man sits back down.

"Doc, I need a pop to quiet this pain some," he more orders than asks, emphasizing with a swat on Simon's arm. With a sigh Simon goes to fetch some medication from his bag. River follows his hands with her eyes. Sees him hesitate, and then choose a bottle. A worry, familiar to River by now, forms words from his lips.

"All right, but what about the authorities? I mean, we're sitting here with stolen Alliance goods. Won't they be looking for us?"

_Stolen Alliance goods…River is stolen. Simon stole her, from the Academy, from the Alliance. _Something approaches her mind, stalking nearer from the corner of the eye. She knows what it is, recognizes their presence. They are the shadow you never see until it is too late. River sees them, can sense them, knows they're coming.

"Won't stop," she says. "Won't ever stop. They'll just keep coming until they get back what you took."

She lifts her hands, the tint of memories shading them in sickening hues. Words snake their way out her mouth, never consulting her mind for permission. A rhyme, a silly verse, the only name she has to describe the ones coming for her.

"Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue."

The words unsettle Jayne. He yells at her, "How's about you shut that crazy mouth? Is that a fun game?" She glares at him, but she is really somewhat grateful. His loud voice rips her away from the fear in her heart. _And also, it is a fun game – scaring Jayne._

Jayne goes on; tries to muscle his way by claiming he's in charge, by waving threats of what Niska will do if they're late. Unexpectedly the riddle speaks. The name of their employer has sparked recognition in him, but the fear the ape-man feels is nowhere to be seen. He speaks out of concern for the others.

"Is this Adelai Niska you're talking about?"

Simon picks that moment to inject Jayne with his medicine. River smiles inwardly.

"Now how would a Shepherd know a name like that?" Jayne asks, but Book doesn't pay the question any mind. He has his reasons – for a lot of things – but none that he's about to share with the crew of Serenity and few that have anything to do with being a Shepherd. Instead he proceeds to speak his piece.

"As I've heard it – he made a deal with the Captain. If the Captain's not there to finish it, if Niska finds out he's being held and may speak as to who hired him – I think we're better off being a little late."

The two lock eyes for a drawn out minute. Book is calm but his gaze holds a severity that says that no matter how unlikely, he knows what he's talking about. It unsettles Jayne to the point where he finally agrees to wait – for a while.

Serenity and her crew wait. Jayne rests on the infirmary table. River watches him, unflinchingly. She knows he doesn't like it, but she doesn't care. _Yes, she does. _She smiles and continues her little game of scare-a-Jayne. The leaf returns to his bridge to monitor the sensors for incoming ships searching to find them. Kaylee keeps him company by the consoles.

Suddenly the ape-man pushes himself off the table. He winces when he puts weight on his wounded leg, but soon he finds a limping kind of walk that works. Simon tells River to stay put before he hurries after. She does as he says, in body if not in spirit. The boat is too small for her mind not to see what's happening.

The chase passes the flower in the kitchen, where the riddle has ended up as well. They watch wondering as the ape-man lives up to River's nickname and hobbles through. They see Simon jogging to keep up, but not River who floats effortlessly before them to the bridge. River hears Simon tell the ape-man to sit down. _He really should listen to him. He _is _a doctor. _

Jayne doesn't listen, just insists they fire up and take off. He's sick of waiting. _Simon is too._ River giggles expectantly. The ape-man tries the 'captain would'-card, with the same kind of reply from Kaylee as last time. Then he tries to assert his own authority instead.

"You know what the chain of command is?" he says to the leaf, his voice laced with threat. "It's the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who's in ruttin' command here. Now we're finishing this deal, and then maybe – maybe we'll come back for those morons who got themselves caught. You can't change that…by getting all...bendy."

The last part comes as a surprise to Wash, out of context and inexplicable. River saw it coming, but then again she sees the mind of the man, has watched it dull and cloud. He didn't even see it but she did. Saw him blur around the edges, slowly at first but picking up speed and finally invading his visual cortex. Make him see twinkly lights and angels, before it swoops him over and robs him of consciousness. The rest of the crew stares at the strong gunman crashing into the grate floor, then Wash voices their thoughts.

"Did he just go crazy and fall asleep?"

"I told him to sit down," Simon responds. Down in the infirmary River giggles again. _Bratty, bratty Simon. Snark with barely a hint of shame._ She knows he'll feel just a bit bad about it later because of his oath, but he had good reasons.

"I just didn't feel comfortable with him in charge. I hope... hope that's all right."

The looks on the other's faces, and the wave of relief washing over River, say it is more than alright. None of them have a problem with the change of command.

"So...How do we get the others?" Book asks the question to get them back on the track they all really want to go.

"Jayne was right about them not making contact. Chances are, they got pinched getting off that train." River senses it pains Wash to admit the ape-man had a point. He childishly makes up for it by using his prone body as a footrest.

"We can't just waltz in and pull them out," sunbeam says, her light momentarily dimmed, but River watches as the words leap to the riddle's head with an idea. The image of the flower appears in his mind, with all his personal associations to her occupation.

"Someone respectable enough might be able to," he says.4e

Inara catches on quickly, as does the rest of the crew. It's risky, but she is the one with the best chance of getting away with it. She goes alone in her shuttle, while they wait, nervously counting the minutes and each running through their understanding of the plan. River jumps from one mind to the other, their anxiety making her restless.

_Maybe now she is walking into the room_, Kaylee thinks and pictures Inara's glamorous gown billowing as she strides confidently. Her thoughts drift, as so often, to how it would feel to wear one of those dresses. River follows her, sunbeam's memory of touching the silk awakening a vague recollection of her own. Remembers dancing at her parents' parties, pretty dresses flowing 'round her fast moving feet.

The key of the plan is the flower's acting, but that particular point doesn't worry the riddle. He worries of the contradiction and the amazon following her lead. If they are off by a beat and the authorities catch on…his face is blankly warm in contrast to the hard set stone of his mind. River decides she's named him well, she sees him through but cannot understand. He has knowledge that no Shepherd should, but the goodness of his heart is what governs him in the name of a Lord no one can see.

To busy their hands, if not their minds, Kaylee and Simon attempt to move Jayne to the infirmary. It doesn't go well and when the shuttle docks back onto Serenity they've only managed to drag him halfway down the stairs in the cargo hold. The returnees see him and pass him by – River even senses amusement in the captain's heart at the sight.

She smiles and relaxes in the relief of the crew, but only for a moment. Worry is already tainting Serenity's air again. And then there's fear and anger and pain. The minds of the crew clash with the cold malevolence of hostile strangers. River hides. She was on her way out of the infirmary to watch the reunion, but now she runs to her room and crawls up in the furthest corner, shutting her eyes and ears but still hearing the battle sounds ripping through the boat.

_Stop, stop, please stop, please, stop. _Her prayers are answered by a single final shot. The ape-man, still groggily slouched against the wire railing of the stairs, saves the captain by kneecapping the evil bird. Still reeling from the violence River doesn't notice the captain and Zoe leaving the boat again. She is lost to the mess in her mind, trying to resurface from the storming sea of emotions and memories and chopped up thoughts and snippets of knowledge a girl shouldn't have. It only touches the fringes of her awareness when the captain sends the bird through the engine, sending ripples of further confusion into the whirlpool. _Mal – bad – perhaps he is. But his core is righteous in his own way._ She cannot make sense of it and conscious thought is taken over by swirling memories and fear. Somewhere out above in the black a shadow moves again. She feels it, sees it, recognizes it.

"Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue..."

The rhyme echoes in her mind. It forces its way over her lips to express the horror clawing at every labyrinth twist and turn of her fractured mind. She knows they're coming, even after the burst of Serenity's engines has left them far behind, and her fear is for everything she holds dear. For herself and for her brother, for the blissfully unsuspecting crew of Serenity. The hidden memories that she can't pin down knows what will happen to them, and her, if the hands of blue ever reel them in.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
